


Tighten Up

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Choking, D/s, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Teachers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the semester, and the stress is weighing on them. Fic where Frank and Gerard are teachers that need something special to escape the end-of-year pressure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tighten Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a Chris Barker/Roger Harvey fic for the White Wives/Anti-Flag fandom. Names changed and small edits made to fit this pairing. If I forgot anything feel free to let me know. Original work can be found at vampcrier.tumblr.com. Lovely beta by lickmymccracken.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

            It was the end of the semester and the tension was palpable throughout the school. Grades needed to be in, exams prepared for, classrooms tidied and textbooks collected. They lost the focus of their students as summer vacation loomed on the horizon. Frank and Gerard tried to keep work out of their relationship as much as possible, but at times like this is was unavoidable.

             They spent all their free time grading or sleeping. Frank had managed a half-hearted blowjob the last Friday but they had no time or drive to do anything truly satisfying for the both of them. Gerard could see it weighing on Frank, knew how the tension would wind its way through Frank’s muscles, knotting itself into Frank’s shoulders until he could really let himself loose. He tried to hide it but Gerard had seen the look on him too many times before and knew what he needed, knew he could give it to him if they could just divorce themselves from the school for just an hour.

 *****

              Gerard’s hand and wrist ache as he sets down the red marking pen on top of the stack of essays. Finally, the work of 120 9th grade Shakespeare scholars is no longer his problem. He slips them into his briefcase to take to the school tomorrow., and with a frown he realizes he doesn’t have another change of work clothes. Maybe he’ll borrow Frank’s, though they’ll be a bit small. He sighs and stretches his fingers and wrist while Frank finishes his own stack, quietly humming as his pen scratches away at the papers.

             Frank’s face takes on a hard expression of concentration while he works. His eyebrows knit together and his mouth turns down a bit at the sides as he reads over the essays in his lap. He sighs, putting down the stack next to Gerard’s.

              “No way I’m finishing these tonight. You could swear I never taught these kids the difference between an alto and a soprano.” He rubs at his forehead, trying to ease the tension built up under the skin from concentrating for so long.

              “Hey,” Gerard whispers, drawing himself into Frank’s space, “you can do it tomorrow, I think it’s time you had a break anyways.” Frank gives a laugh before closing the gap between them to meet Gerard for a kiss, wet and languid and hot. One of Frank’s hands winds its way up Gerard’s side, over his shoulder and into his hair, holding him steady where he wants, before giving the strands a sharp tug.

             Gerard sighs into the kiss and leans into the hand, losing track of what his mouth should be doing from how sharp and focused the pricks of pain on his head make him feel. He breaks the kiss to breathe for a second, nuzzle his face closer to Frank’s ear to whisper, “More.”

             Frank’s breath hitches a little. “Are you sure?” They haven’t done this in so long, haven’t had the time or energy but the feeling has been crawling through Frank’s veins for weeks and now, now is a great time for this.

             “Yes, please.” Gerard mumbles into the side of Frank’s neck.

            The response is immediate. There’s another hand wrapping itself in Gerard’s tie and it’s pulling him forward. Gerard wants to look up and see Frank’s face but he can’t, because the hand is twisting up the fabric, and the loop is getting firmer and firmer against Gerard’s neck and his eyes refuse to focus. He’s pulled over to Frank’s chest by the neck, tie so, so, tight and he’s so, so turned on. A sharp yank upwards and Frank is biting and sucking at the underside of Gerard’s jaw, above where the collar of his shirt has been hiked up. Gerard lets his head fall back, but that puts all the tension of the tie on his spine and that’s all wrong, and he’s caught between the fabric and Frank’s mouth and his brain is shorting out and the only thing that’s getting across is _want_.

             Frank leans back for a second, and Gerard takes the opportunity. His limbs awaken from where the felt paralyzed before, and his hands are at the neck of Frank’s shirt, fumbling with the buttons in shaky, erratic movements. Only two are freed before the hand in Gerard’s hair disappears and it’s yanking Gerard away from its owner’s body. Frank is frowning at Gerard, but it does little to cover the heat in his stare.

             “Gerard, what did you do wrong? The question is correlated with a twist of the tie. Gerard can’t think, can barely breathe, but he needs to answer, needs to satisfy Frank now.

             “Didn’t, I didn’t-“ Gerard gasps and folds in on himself, pressing his face into Frank’s thigh. His mind is fuzzy and unclear and this position feels so right. “I didn’t ask if I could touch.”

             “Touch who?”

             Gerard whines into Frank’s leg. “Touch you, Frank, I didn’t ask if I could touch you.”

             Frank makes a vague, “huh,” noise and pulls Gerard back up to his level. “Good. You need to remember your manners. So next time you want to touch me, you will ask. Understood?”

             Gerard nods vigorously, leaning in to try to catch Frank’s scent, his breath, anything, but Frank is getting off the couch to stand a few feet away. His hands are deft, making short work of the rest of the buttons and the shirt underneath. He’s pulling the belt out of the loops when he acknowledges Gerard again, quirking an eyebrow and asking if Gerard would like to touch him now. Again, Gerard nods, not trusting himself to speak, but Frank just “huh”s and continues to strip until all of his clothes lay in a starched pile on the floor.

             Gerard has curled back up on the couch, the lack of contact and guiding hands leaving him feeling lost and empty. He wants Frank so badly but his instincts won’t allow him to even try to touch, just to let him sit on the couch and wait for Frank to decide that Gerard is worthy of him. Frank crosses the space to him, fitting one hand under his jaw and another firmly on the knot of his tie. The hands guide Gerard to sit up on his heels, but his skin feels like its melting into the touches, following them like opposing magnets. The pieces all fit together and he feels solid, present in Frank’s hands.

            Frank is standing right in front of him, skin looking soft and warm in the light from the lamp, the blocks of ink on his arms and chest looking darker than usual and Gerard just wants to taste them, trace over the lines with his fingers and tongue and let Frank know how beautiful he is. Frank’s half-hard cock is just below his nose, so close he could stick his tongue out and give it a lick without moving his head. But right now he’s still not allowed to touch, and that thought reminds him of how desperately hard he is inside his work slacks. He’s still completely dressed, and it just seems so gloriously unfair. Frank is looking down at him expectantly, and Gerard knows that he can ask now.

            “Christ, Frank, please let me touch you, I want to suck your cock it’s been so long-“ Frank tugs on the tie to cut off the plea. When Gerard looks up, a smile is playing at the corners of Frank’s mouth, so far from the frustration that seemed cemented there the whole week.

            “Good. You can touch me now, but only with your mouth.” Gerard whines, and Frank gives the tie another tug. “Open.” He commands. Gerard is quick to comply.

 Frank’s dick slides over Gerard’s lips easily, and Gerard leans into it as far as he can without losing his balance on the edge of the couch. The hand that was on his jaw ghosts up his face to knot fingers into the front of his hair, letting Frank control the pace. He holds Gerard in place as he keeps pushing into the back of Gerard’s throat, sighing at the feeling. There are white spots dancing in Gerard’s eyes, because between the tie twisted tight around his neck and the dick down his throat he can barely breathe and it feels just right.

             The hand on the tie relinquishes its grip to join the other in Gerard’s hair, holding him by the back of the head to keep him still, so Frank can fuck into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard’s hands clench by his sides, wanting to hold the hips that are coming so close to his face, wanting to wrap a palm around the base of Frank’s dick and blow him for real, but Gerard knows he can’t. The frustration only adds to the hot and cold, too much and not enough feeling that’s both winding Gerard up and letting him slowly hand over control to Frank. He ends up gripping the hem of his shirt, trying to focus on working his tongue on the underside of Frank’s cock and keeping his lips tight, wanting to give Frank everything even though he’s already taken what he wants.

              After a particularly hard thrust, Gerard gags hard, nearly doubling over. He tries to disguise it as a moan, but Frank pulls out of his mouth and kneels to Gerard’s level on the couch, darkness leaving his face to be replaced by concern.

              “Hey are you good?” He lifts Gerard’s face with one hand, but Gerard can barely meet his eyes. He was doing so well, he was making Frank feel good but he fucked up. Gerard just leans down, trying to get at Frank with his mouth again, but Frank pushes him back. “Answer me.” The command still lingers in his voice and Gerard can’t ignore it.

              “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Frank, I won’t do it again, let me try again, please,” Gerard babbles rubbing his hands on Frank’s knees, forgetting that it’s not allowed, needing to touch him, to prove that he can do this well, he can be good.

 Frank stalls for a second, visibly torn, but in the end the heat returns to his eyes as he stands back up. “Ask for it.”

 “Please, Frank, please let me suck you I just-“ Frank cuts him off with one hand in his hair and the other guiding himself into Gerard’s mouth, Gerard whines, high and needy as Frank fucks into his mouth, and it’s all Gerard can do to not gag and keep his teeth out of the way. Frank’s breathing gets tight and Gerard can see the shine of sweat down his chest in the light.

              “Fuck, you’re so fucking good for me, Gee, so polite and, _oh fuck,_ just go under and fuck you’re so-“ Frank never makes it to the end of the thought, pushing deep into Gerard’s mouth as he comes with a gasp. His hands pull Gerard’s head back too quick and the last bits of come slip out of his lips, letting them shine like pornographic lip gloss.

              Frank’s head is failing him, so he sits down on the couch next to Gerard, waiting for the orgasmic haze to clear. Gerard tries to wait patiently, rubbing at his lips with the wrinkled sleeve of his button down, sitting back on his heels to watch Frank come down, but he’s desperate, so hot and nearly painful in his slacks but he won’t let himself indulge until Frank can okay it, until Frank can make sure he’s okay, he hasn’t gone too far. Slowly, Frank’s breathing evens out, and he turns to Gerard, expression softer than before, almost sweet.

              “You were so good, just took it so pretty, Jesus Gerard,” Frank scoots forward a bit to breathe words into Gerard’s air. “You can get yourself off now, you were so good.”

              Gerard wastes no time, scrambling at his belt and the buttons on his pants until finally, _finally,_ he can get a hand in his boxers and fuck, he’s been ready for this for ages, he won’t last. He shoves his slacks down to his knees and strokes tight and fast, just wanting to get there already and Frank is staring at him across the few inches of space between them. Frank’s hand slides under Gerard’s shirt to stroke at his shoulder, across his collarbone and down his chest and then Gerard is tensing up and coming hot and breathless over his hand and the tails of his shirt.

              Gerard pants into Frank’s shoulder as he comes down, and Frank brushes the sweat-sticky hair off of Gerard’s forehead and behind his ear. It may have been a while since they did this but Frank knows he needs to stay, let Gerard know that he’s here and he did well, so fucking well. When Frank doesn’t move from his spot, Gerard smiles into Frank’s shoulder. They’re here to take care of each other.

******

              They make it to their respective classrooms minutes before the bell, exhausted but satisfied knowing the other is only a few rooms away, thinking of them. They set their papers down on their desks and wait for the stragglers to take their seats. In Frank’s class, he feels the energy in the room different, loose and relaxed, optimistic in the face of summer. In Gerard’s class, a girl raises her hand high in the air.

             “Question?”

             “You and Mr. Iero have the same tie!” She giggles.

             Gerard laughs to himself. “I’ll let him know.”


End file.
